Wonderwall
by rainxface
Summary: Lars Simmons: big-time metal guy. Max: his old best friend. what happens after a concert and the two reunite? song: "Wonderwall" by Oasis. songfic. also posted in the Music Chronicals.


**Wonderwall**

**By rainxface**

**Yes, this is posted in, like, three different spots, but it's because I love this song. And I think I did a wonderful job writing this one (not to sound conceited or anything).**

**Disclaimer: MR to JP, "Wonderwall" to Oasis**

I shoved my way through all the people. The crowd in the small bar was horrendous. It was five minutes until play time, and I needed to be at the front. Unfortunately, no one wanted to seem to let me slide up to the front.

One minute to play time and I barely made it up. The lights started dimming, everyone around me was cheering thunderously. I couldn't even hear myself think.

True, I hated small places, and yes, I despise people that love loud noises, but this was for a good reason. I tried shoving away some people to make my space bigger, but it filled up once I let down my arm.

An announcer boomed over the crappy speakers. "Ladies and gentlemen. The man that you've been waiting for. Mr. Lars Simmons!"

Screams came from everywhere. _I'll be lucky if I come out of here _not _deaf_. I kept my eyes on the stage as Lars entered from the left. A spotlight, in a funny shade of red, blared against his black outfit. The light tainted his grim smile red.

"Hell-oh everybody! I hope you guys all know what today is." He chuckled into the microphone in front of him. "Today is my anniversary with my best friend. We've known each other for so long – probably since about the time I was born (yes, she is older). And I introduce you to the night this way because I have a song, just for her. I hope she's somewhere out in the crowd. If you are out there, you know who you are."

He turned away from the microphone to a rack holding a couple of guitars. One of the stage managers helped him with the black acoustic, and he headed back upstage.

He strummed the guitar once and said, "If you know the words, sing along."

_Today is gonna be the day  
That they're gonna throw it back to you  
By now you should've somehow  
Realized what you gotta do  
I don't believe that anybody  
Feels the way I do about you now_

_Backbeat the word was on the street  
That the fire in your heart is out  
I'm sure you've heard it all before  
But you never really had a doubt  
I don't believe that anybody feels  
The way I do about you now_

_And all the roads we have to walk along are winding  
And all the lights that lead us there are blinding  
There are many things that I would  
Like to say to you  
I don't know how_

_Because maybe  
You're gonna be the one who saves me?  
And after all  
You're my wonderwall_

I had heard the song before, many moons ago, but never had thought much of it. Now, hearing it come from Lars, it was beautiful. Tears streaked down my face as I tried to sing along.

_  
Today was gonna be the day?  
But they'll never throw it back to you  
By now you should've somehow  
Realized what you're not to do  
I don't believe that anybody  
Feels the way I do  
About you now_

_And all the roads that lead to you were winding  
And all the lights that light the way are blinding  
There are many things that I would like to say to you  
I don't know how_

_I said maybe  
You're gonna be the one who saves me?  
And after all  
You're my wonderwall_

_I said maybe  
You're gonna be the one who saves me ?  
And after all  
You're my wonderwall_

_Said maybe  
You're gonna be the one that saves me  
You're gonna be the one that saves me  
You're gonna be the one that saves me_

He faded out the song with the last strum and his voice steady. If I didn't know any better, I'd say that he'd look like he was about to cry.

But I knew him better than that.

The rest of the concert went on with Lars' usual heavy rock/metal songs. I didn't mind the bass pumping everything, but the pure loudness of the volume almost killed me. It hurt my ears too much.

As the final song of his encore was played, I made my way to backstage. Of course I had bought a backstage pass. The doors opened for me and I ran through, searching for Lars. When I did find him, I flung myself at him. Happily, he hugged me back.

"Oh my God, you were here!" he cried. "I was hoping you would make it to this concert! Did you like the first song? Or was it too much?"

"Stop talking so much, you're scaring me," I joked. "I loved the beginning – the whole thing was amazing." He let go of me and we began to walk down the hall.

"Good." His smile, the one that always brightened my world, was back. "I've missed you so much, Max. Or, wait, do you have a new name you go by?"

"No, _Lars_," I teased. "Unlike _you_, I haven't really changed that much." I poked him in the chest, and laughed.

"Oh, how much I've missed you and your laugh." He sighed. "So what have you been up to recently? Any boys I should be worrying about? Anyone that I need to beat up?"

"No, I'm pretty sure I've beaten up all the boys for you. But thanks for the concern. I've taken a low-profile, yet again. I'm not looking for anyone. Not interested." I shrugged.

"Will you ever get used to not having to worry every second?"

"Probably not." I laughed and he joined with me.

"Come on, I'll show you where I'm staying tonight." He took my hand and pulled me with him. I smiled.

A couple minutes later, we were outside of the building and at a cheap hotel.

"It's nothing fancy, but it's bed and showers." Lars shrugged. He looked down at me, his eyes obviously looking through mine. "Want to hang out tonight. Tomorrow I've got to leave for my next gig."

"I don't see why not," I agreed. He pulled into the hotel and to his room. It was nothing fancy at all – one full sized bed in the middle of the room with a television in the corner and a bathroom in the other. I sat down on the bed.

"It's better that what we used to sleep on," I joked.

"Yeah, way better." He sat down next to me.

"Lars—"

"Call me Fang, like you're used to," he told me. He could obviously see the strain that I had to remember to call him Lars.

"Okay, Fang. How long has it been? Five years? Six? That's how long we _haven't _spoken for. Do you even remember why we haven't?"

"I've been on the road, recording, out of country—"

"I know. I have all of your CD's," I interrupted.

"But I guess we just haven't had the time." He sighed. "Time is a valuable thing that most people forget about. I guess we just forgot what time it was and kept on forgetting."

"Why don't we forget the times that we forgot and pick up where we left off?" I suggested.

"You mean the times I'd kiss you and you'd run away?" he replied jokingly. I lightly hit him on the arm. "Ow." He rubbed the stop I hit.

"You know what I mean."

"Or do I?" He swooped in and kissed me. And since it's been almost six years, I did not do the foolish thing of running away from him. Instead, I went with it, kissing him back. In between kisses, Fang said, "I love you, Max."

"I love you, Fang," I replied a couple kisses later.

* * *

I woke up the next morning in the same room. My shirt was hanging from the television, I could see. I could feel my pants still on. I silently thanked God.

I got up, pulled on my shirt and wrote a quick note to Fang. Maybe this time, we could stay in touch.

**I love that song. This idea was bobbing in my head for a while, but I couldn't come up with a song that would work with it. I finally found it.**

**And for Lars: I came up with the name because my family used to have a big great dane that was basically our house protector. His name was Lars. I think of Lars/Fang's character as protector of Max. So, I thought it would be a nice name for him. Plus, in my mind Fang looks like a Lars.**

**Smiles,**

**rainxface**


End file.
